


oh we play, in autumn days

by aruariandance



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M, it's hella embarrassing tbh im so gross, literally just disgusting amounts of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 04:23:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3836950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aruariandance/pseuds/aruariandance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I think about your collarbones in Calculus," he says, and then waits for death to be swift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	oh we play, in autumn days

**Author's Note:**

> dumb, codependent volleyball dorks who need to be in constant contact is just soヽ(´ｰ｀ )ﾉ

There’s fifteen minutes left of his captivity, the drumming of pencils on desktops and the wind forcing treetops to crash into windows drowning out the noisiness of whatever the teacher is saying, gesticulating his hands and furrowing his brows as if anyone is particularly affected by his lecture. He’s going on, probably about the importance of punctuality, Kageyama assumes, he thinks maybe half the classroom are students who show up late or not at all. Whatever the offense, he’s pretty sure no one’s remorse is in anyway heightened by being forced to detention in a cramped, unused classroom with desks so old Kageyama wonders why the school hasn’t rid itself of them. 

“And, of course, a good night’s rest is of importance,” the man quips, pointedly connecting his line of sight with Kageyama’s aimless glare. 

He turns his scowl down at his desk, picks at the ravines that have been dug into the wooden surface, finger tracing outlines of names and lewd remarks. It’s not as if he would have been paying attention in class if he was awake, anyway, he points out without saying anything at all. 

The lecture runs its course, everyone breathes at once in relief, Kageyama stands up and stretches his arms over his head, his body buzzing with the sudden awake, the tips of his fingers itching for grip and release. A glance at the clock tells him practice ended minutes ago, he’s missed it, and the creep of disappointment bundles up around his shoulders when he realizes he really can’t blame anyone but himself.

He gathers his belongings and leaves class with little to no attention paid to his surroundings. It’s late afternoon, the sun is still up and warm, pressing shadows across Kageyama’s usual route home. 

“Oi,” a high pitch voice declares from behind. Kageyama refuses the corners of his mouth the courtesy of so much as twitching in response. 

“Kageyama! Hey, I said! Wait up!” 

A palm he’s far too familiar with presses into the space between his shoulder blades, and then just as quickly his path is blocked with the usual terrorist of his daily routine. 

“Heard you missed practice because of detention,” he’s grinning, his arms out at his side, as if it’s preventing Kageyama from moving beyond him, “You better clean up your act, stupid. We have inter-high to work for!”

Kageyama blinks into his shifted weight, regards the boy with narrow eyes. “We both know you failed your last English exam, dumbass. Don’t go lecturing me, I’ve had enough of that for one day.”

He’s ruffled, puts his hands up to his hair as if in defense. “You’re so rude! How did you know about that anyway?! Hey, how?!”

They walk together, an exchange of energy that both burns Kageyama out and signals his brain into over sensory mode. “You should be happy I wasn’t there today, anyway,” Kageyama says. “Your receives were shit this morning. I would have kicked your ass earlier if I had to deal with that again.”

Hinata - he’s looking straight at him, hair fluttering in the breeze, eyes wide and almost gold in the late afternoon - grins and tucks his hands into his jacket pockets. He says something in response, but Kageyama doesn’t hear him, not at all.

“You need a cellphone,” Hinata suggests sometime later in their conversation. They’ve stopped walking; this is usually where they depart, Hinata off towards the mountains and Kageyama only a few blocks away from home. “If you’re going to keep being a delinquent and getting sent to detention, you need something to do while you’re there. I could have texted you updates about practice and sent you pictures of how cool I was.”

Kageyama snorts, kicks the curb absently. “I don’t need a cellphone. What would I do with it, anyway?”

“Text me, duh.” He’s grinning again, it’s insufferable. “You’re a young, healthy teenager! We need these things. Besides, it’s fun to send people emojis.”

They say their goodbyes, Hinata waving him off as he climbs onto his bike which he’d walked up until that point. 

Kageyama watches his small form disappear into the increasingly dark sky, and then jogs the rest of the way home, hands gripping the straps of his backpack, just because.

/////

“Oh,” his mother says. “Sure, Tobio.” She hesitates, then smiles, kind of a meaningful grin. “I’m surprised, though. I thought you hated these kinds of things.”

“I do hate it,” he says, picks at his vegetables, tosses them around his plate with his chopsticks. He hates leeks. “Is it not okay?”

“Don’t play with your food, love,” his mother says, “And, well, it’s fine and all. I was just wondering what brought this on, all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know. Boredom,” he says, shrugging like maybe it’s a question, maybe he’s not so sure.

They finish dinner, and Tobio washes their dishes because he forgot to do it in the morning after breakfast, and despite never admitting it, he feels guilty. His mom smiles softly at him, ruffles his hair when she walks by to serve herself more tea.

“Does Hinata-kun have a cellphone?” 

The water has turned too hot, Kageyama realizes belatedly, and hisses as the steam spills from the spout and down his knuckles. He turns the water off hurriedly, rubs the tips of his fingers together, stares at the soapy suds spill down the drain. “Yeah,” he says absently, focuses on rinsing his hands with cool water. “I think everyone on the team does. Hinata sends everyone pictures of dogs and cats he sees when he walks to school every morning, apparently.”

He thinks about the picture of a small black kitten with its fangs showing that Nishinoya had showed him on his phone one morning at practice, laughing and clapping his back. He’d received the picture from Hinata only minutes before, and the caption read, _look!!! doesn’t he look grumpy like kageyama?? ahahaha!_

His mother laughs. “Sounds like fun,” she says, and serves herself a cup. “We can go look for cellphones this weekend, if you’d like.”

/////

“Uwah?! No fair!” 

Kageyama’s already rolling his eyes, pulls his cell phone away from Hinata’s prying fingers, keeps his arm up and over his head as the red-head jumps and reaches for it. 

“I had to beg my parents for my model! Yours is the newest one, isn’t it?! Hey, Kageyama! Isn’t it?!”

They make it to their usual lunch spot without incident, but as soon as Kageyama lets his guard down to sit, Hinata takes the opportunity to dig into his pocket and snatch his phone.

“Hey!” Kageyama exclaims, admittedly more surprised than irritated. “Don’t do anything weird to it! It’s new, dumbass!”

“What am I gonna do?” Hinata rolls his eyes, taps around the screen until he’s grinning, tongue peeking out the corner of his mouth as he types deftly into the phone. He’s so focused he doesn’t notice Kageyama’s hand until it’s gripping the top of his head and pulling at his hair, and then he’s yelling and calling Kageyama a jerk, and then he’s laughing because it actually kind of tickles. 

“Here,” he sniffs, handing Kageyama back his phone as he settles down on the ground and pulls out his lunch. “I put in my number and texted myself so I have yours, too.” 

Kageyama frowns, opening up his phone to see the only listed contact aside from his mother and his weird Auntie that his mother absolutely forced him to add in case of emergencies, is named _Hinata Shouyou AKA Future Ace of Kurasuno!!_ with numerous other emojis, all of flowers and smiley faces.

Kageyama ignores the warmth settling in his chest, the way the corners of his mouth want to upturn and the bubbling mirth in his throat wants to erupt, and clicks edit instead. 

“Here,” he says, turning his phone to face Hinata after a few moments. “Fixed it.”

 _Wrong Number, Ignore_ the contact name now reads, and Hinata tackles Kageyama until his back hits the grass.

///

It becomes surprisingly easy for Kageyama to forget he used to never have a cellphone when he realizes just how useful it can be. Stupid, he reminds himself several times a day, but maybe a little useful.

Hinata texts him nonstop. He sends him threatening texts in the morning ( _you better show up for practice on your a-game…. i’m feelin ready!!!!_ ) and then spams him consistently when he has maths class ( _it’s like a different language kageyamaaaa….. i dont understand anything!!! ヽ(ﾟДﾟ„)ノ_ ) but mostly he sends him lots of selfies, usually ones where he’s feeling smug ( _guess who just got free movie tickets_ the caption reads under a photo of Hinata grinning and holding up the certificates proudly. The text is immediately followed by _hey wanna go to the movies this weekend?!!_ )

It’s annoying, but maybe a little useful.

\\\\\\\

“Tobio,” his mother warns. “I never thought I would have to tell you this, but can you please put away your phone at dinner?”

Kageyama flushes, stuffs his cell into his pocket and shoves the rest of his curry into his mouth. “Sorry,” he mumbles, and as if on cue, his phone vibrates to alert him of a new text message.

His mother sighs, long-suffering, but she looks pretty happy as she does. 

ø

Despite being on it almost constantly since buying it, Kageyama doesn’t have any apps or games on his phone. All he does is text Hinata, some of the guys on the team, and occasionally his mother. 

Hinata thinks this is hilarious, and spends an entire lunch period downloading useless games onto his phone. Kageyama sighs, allows the small boy beside him, brushing elbows, to amuse himself for as long as it takes for Kageyama to get too annoyed and snatch his phone back. 

He’s downloaded snapchat and spends a significant amount of time taking selfies and snapping them to himself, all while laughing entirely too hard. He’s making duck lips and sticking out his tongue and every picture has Kageyama, looking grumpy and awkward, in the background. He takes a substantially funny one, so that Hinata has his cheek pressed to Kageyama’s, and he’s winking and making a peace sign. Kageyama looks like he’s caught entirely off guard, mouth open and eyebrows drawn tightly together in annoyance, but there’s something in his expression that looks lit up, excited. Hinata saves the picture, before sending it to everyone on the team, himself included. Kageyama reaches for his phone then, because enough is enough, but Hinata holds it out of his reach and then starts messing with his settings. Kageyama huffs, anxiously, because he has no idea what Hinata’s doing, but then the phone is handed back to him but this time with the selfie Hinata took of them as his wallpaper. He groans, shoves the phone back at Hinata and demands him to change it back to the default background, and then Hinata’s gripping his sides in laughter when he realizes Kageyama doesn’t actually know how to change it back himself. 

Kageyama thinks he’s having too much fun, too warm and too close, and pushes him hard in the side just because. Hinata’s still laughing, cheeks a light pink from the exertion as he looks up at Kageyama, grin his entire face, eyes crinkled at the corners. He’s sunshine.

Kageyama shoves him so hard he falls to the grass, and then they’re both wrestling, and Hinata won’t stop laughing. Kageyama calls him stupid five times as he towers over him on his knees, hands gripping his sides, and Hinata’s still laughing. He pinches Hinata’s cheeks and his arms and hates himself, despises himself when he cracks a smile, mirrors Hinata’s stupid grin with his own. 

They’re both late to class, grass stains on their uniforms.

\\\

It’s the kind of Sunday Kageyama hates the most, where it’s been dark all day so the night feels prolonged, and there’s a stagnant chill in the air that won’t go away no matter how many blankets he piles onto his bed. He can’t focus on his homework, there’s a buzzing in the back of his skull, and completely irrelevant to all of this, Hinata hasn’t texted him all day.

They hadn’t had practice in the morning, and Kageyama had sort of assumed he and Hinata would meet up to go running or practice receives on their own. His phone hasn’t beeped once, though, and despite his brain insisting that he should just turn it all off and go to bed, he stays sitting in bed, grumpily playing Candy Crush on his phone until he can beat the next level. 

It’s nearly 1 am, and Kageyama realizes there is literally no reason for him to be awake. He’s about to shut off his phone when the icon in the top corner of his phone alerts him of a snapchat. His heart jumps, there’s only one person who snapchats him, let alone this late. 

He immediately opens the notification and presses down on the snap. It’s a picture of Hinata, face red and blotchy and miserable, laying on his pillow with a frown. The caption underneath his face reads: _sick n bored._

It makes sense, Kageyama thinks, the seconds running out and Hinata’s face disappearing from sight. He didn’t want to meet up for volleyball, of course he’s sick. There’s literally no other circumstance where he wouldn’t want to meet up and practice.

Kageyama stretches out on his bed, remembers he was about to fall asleep, wipes a hand over his face and through his hair.

He texts Hinata. 

_Don’t die. drink water and stuff,_ he sends before he thinks too much about it. 

Not even ten seconds later, he receives, _i’ve been asleep all day!!! so bored. my parents made me take medicine that makes me sleepy. but now its worn off and im wide awake!!_

Kageyama scratches his face, wonders what Hinata expects from him. He rolls onto his stomach, the glow from his phone forcing him to squint at the screen. 

_Save your energy for practice tomorrow. you better be there._

_im all betterr! i slept off my cold but my mom wont let me go to practice still. shes waaaay overreacting_ , Hinata sends back, and Kageyama ignores the disappointment materializing as heavy dread in his chest. 

It’s only one day of practice, Hinata’s been doing well lately, he can afford a day off, he reminds himself, even though he knows that’s not the problem.

He’s about to respond, when he receives another text off the back of that one. _its dumb, i kno but… im gonna miss everyone,_ the text reads, and Kageyama huffs, closes his phone and stares at the blank darkness of his room, tries to blink the stinging out of his eyes. Maybe he’s been staring at his phone screen for too long like his mom said, after all.

 _my eyes hurt,_ he texts, because he doesn’t know what else to say, and when that happens he usually just texts whatever he’s thinking. He hopes Hinata is used to it by now. 

_you sleepy?_ Hinata texts back, and something about it sends Kageyama’s stomach curling forward into somersaults. 

He doesn’t respond for a few seconds, tries to recover from whatever that was, but then Hinata’s already sent another text, _well…. you shud go to bed then….. since you have practice in a few hours …. :/_

Kageyama nods to himself, tries to reaffirm that he does, indeed, need to go to sleep. Yes, he needs sleep, because he’s actually entertaining the outlandish thought of calling Hinata at 1:30 AM, because then he won’t be looking at the screen, won’t be hurting his eyes, and that is a crazy twist of logic he’s not sure he’s prepared to tackle. 

He calls Hinata.

“Hello?” his voice answers, highly unsure and hoarse. Kageyama swallows. 

“Hey,” he whispers, buries his head under his pillow and wills the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“Um,” Hinata sounds different on the phone, Kageyama thinks, or maybe it’s because he’s sick. Or maybe it’s because it’s 1:30 in the morning. “Did you call me on purpose? Or…”

“What?” Kageyama snaps. “Don’t you think I would have hung up by now if it was an accident, dumbass?” He’s immensely grateful for cell phones, presses his palm down on his cheek, aflame. 

“Oh,” Hinata says, and Kageyama can tell he’s smiling, it’s so ridiculous, he’s so obvious, all the time. “I wasn’t sure. Did you practice today?”

They end up talking about what they each did that day, Hinata going into disturbing detail of his sickness, and Kageyama mostly commenting on how stupid Hinata was to get sick in the first place. Hinata’s defensive, and somehow they end up blaming each other for everything wrong that happened since they last saw each other, and Kageyama’s covering his smile with his hand before he can help it. 

“Stupid,” he says into his cellphone, and it’s so disturbingly fond he actually feels his heart jump in fear. 

“You’re stupid,” Hinata says, laughter in his voice. He hesitates for a moment, then says, “Hey, isn’t it 4 AM?”

Kageyama groans into his phone. “Yeah… it is.”

“Hmm. We should probably go to sleep, yeah?”

“... I guess.”

Silence. 

"I really am gonna miss everyone, tomorrow," Hinata whispers. Kageyama swallows, his throat suddenly dry. "I know it's only one day, so it's stupid, but. Still."

"... everyone's gonna miss you, too." Kageyama presses his palm into his eye, feels his heart skip across his chest, like a stone across a pond. 

"Hmm. Maybe. Don't do anything embarrassing when I'm not there to see it. And don't let Tsukishima be too much of an ass."

"Okay, mom," Kageyama mumbles and is rewarded with Hinata's quiet, warm laugh, the one he makes when he's subdued, heavy with mood, but still somehow joyful. 

"Goodnight, Kageyama," Hinata says, sighing, farther away than before but still lingering.

"Goodnight, stupid," Kageyama murmurs. He's about to hang up, but hesitates with Hinata still on the line. "I, uh. I'll text you updates tomorrow. Like, about practice and stuff."

"Ooh," Hinata breathes, and he can hear the smile in his tone, see the way his face probably lights up. Kageyama flexes his fingers, tightens his hold around his phone, ignores the way his hand has become sweaty and hot around his grip. "I'm excited now! Hey, I can go to sleep with something to look forward to tomorrow!"

"Whatever," Kageyama mumbles quickly. "'night. See you, uh. Whenever." 

He hangs up after that, shoves the hand holding his phone under his pillow and breathes, hopes for morning to come quickly.

//_

Morning practice goes well despite Hinata’s absence, although people keep coming up to Kageyama and asking him just how sick Hinata is and if he'll be alright soon. Its concern motivating them, though, not annoyance or worry about missing practice. They care about Hinata a lot.

He texts Hinata twice in the morning, once to send a picture of Tsukishima with a dumb look on his face Kageyama somehow managed to capture, and another telling him to hurry up and get better because they need to practice the timing for their new quick.

Hinata responds around lunch time, and they end up texting the entire break, Kageyama opting to sit in his desk rather than go to their usual spot. 

He snorts, because Hinata's sent him a particularly stupid snapchat of himself with Natsu sitting on his shoulders, generally terrorizing him. He’s smiling to himself, when he notices a girl and her friend sitting nearby looking at him and smiling sweetly, eyes knowing.

Kageyama frowns, turns his body to face out the window and ignores both the flush up his neck and the girls' giggling happily.

He gets home late that day, mostly because Daichi wanted him to try quicks with Tanaka in the afternoon, just for the hell of it, and so they were tossing and spiking late into the day. It had been hard, and exhausting on both ends, though Kageyama maintained his cool somehow and was surprised with how well he avoided snapping at the wing spiker. Maybe he only lacked patience with Hinata.

As soon as he gets home, he checks his phone and sees four texts and a missed call. It makes a funny thrill shoot through his body, up from the pit of his stomach to the roots of his hair, and when he opens the messages he’s unsurprised to see that they're all from Hinata. He immediately calls him back, kicking off his shoes at the doorway and jumping onto his couch in his living room. 

"Hey!" Hinata's voice is energized and happy, picks up on the second ring. "I was waiting for you to call me, stupid. How was practice?"

“Okay, I guess,” Kageyama says awkwardly. He settles into the cushions, stretches out his socked feet until they hit the other end of the couch. He’s reminded of the one time Hinata came to his house and sat in the exact spot, the way his feet struggled to breach the distance between the cushion and the armrest, how it had been a warm day similar to now. Kageyama wipes the bead of sweat running down his neck. “I practiced quicks with Tanaka, which was actually kinda cool. I think we’re getting our timing a lot better.”

Hinata is silent for a few moments. “You better not like his spikes better than mine,” he mutters vehemently, before continuing, tone careful, “And I mean, like you said earlier, we have a lot to work on still with our new quick. Also, signs. You know how bad I am at memorizing all the signs, I’m gonna need your help.” He pauses. “I guess I could work with Suga-san, though, like if you wanna work with Tanaka. If that’s what you want.” 

“... Hm. Okay.”

“...Kageyama? Are you laughing?”

“No--”

“Yes! You are! You jackass, what’s so funny, huh?!” 

He sounds flushed, defensive, more embarrassed than upset, and Kageyama openly laughs at him. They squabble for a few more minutes, and then the line falls into a comfortable silence between them. Hinata comments on how annoyingly hot it is in his house every couple of minutes, and Kageyama complains about how there’s nothing to watch on TV as he mindlessly flips through the channels. He’s never really been into TV too much, but ever since Hinata forced him to watch this stupid sketch show that airs on weeknights, he’s become slightly interested and, well, the thing just sits there, so. 

His mom walks in and out of the the living room a few times, and Kageyama assumes she’s cleaning or looking for something. He hopes she’s not going to ask him help her, because Hinata’s getting yelled at by his mom for some menial chore he forgot to do and it’s pretty funny listening to him resist talking back, and mutter to his mom how embarrassing it is for her to harass him when Kageyama is there, kind of. 

His mother curls up on the sofa chair adjacent to him, however, when Kageyama is five minutes into some weird foreign film he finds. He’s in the middle of describing how strange and pretentious it is to Hinata, and resists laughing too hard when he says it sounds like something Tsukishima would probably enjoy watching. He glances at her, though, because he’s not sure what about the movie would catch her interest. 

She’s looking at him instead, though, eyes narrowed but expression otherwise interested. Kageyama feels like a bucket of cold water has been dumped over his head.

“Hold on one second,” he murmurs into the phone before holding it down and away. He points a scowl at her, trying his best to look only mildly annoyed and not entirely unnerved. 

“What,” he says, sitting up slightly. 

“Nothing,” she says in that deliberate, annoying mom voice. “I’m glad you’ve been using your phone. I was worried you wouldn’t, at first, but it seems like it’s become really useful, yeah?”

Kageyama rolls his eyes to avoid stuttering. “I guess,” he sighs, stands up, makes a show of stretching. “I’m gonna go take a nap, or something,” he says hurriedly and is stalking off to his room before she can really respond. 

As soon as he shuts the door behind him, he falls onto his bed, lifts the phone to his ear, and mutters, “Mom’s are so annoying.”

Across the line, he distantly hears Hinata’s mother yelling at him to do his homework, and his answering groan. “Seriously,” he says, and they both sigh.

////

It’s unexpected, the way they fall into patterns, always have, since the very beginning. Even after Hinata comes back to school and they spend their time together, as usual, fumbling through conversations void of any conclusions (or beginnings, or middles, really) they don’t actually say anything about their afternoon phone calls, or their late night phone calls, which have, unexpectedly, become routine. 

There’s a warmth now, one for when they’re both wrapped up in blankets in bed, whispering into their cellphones at 3 am, knowing there’s nothing left to talk about, but the space between now and the morning is a journey of time, and not even the promise of rest makes it any less unendurable, not without the (strange) comfort of the other’s light breathing in their ear. 

“I bet I can stay awake longer than you,” Hinata says one night, smug and haughty. Kageyama bites the bait, because he’s stupid and childish and maybe doesn’t want to stop hearing the way Hinata loses a filter completely at around 4 am and mostly just giggles inanely into the phone. Naturally, neither of them get any sleep that night. They’re grumpy the next morning, snapping at anyone who asks them why the hell they didn’t sleep and still managed to not do any of their homework. Hinata takes two serves to the face at morning practice and Kageyama doesn’t even have the energy to laugh, which is a shame, because the flushed, petulant expression Hinata wears for the rest of practice is the funniest thing he’s seen in ages. 

Mostly, though, they just mumble small things to each other when they’re on the phone. At 2 am on the dot one night Hinata tells Kageyama he’s still jealous of how tall he is. Kageyama responds, predictably, by saying, yeah, well it is pretty awesome, and Hinata snaps, predictably, no need to be an asswipe about it.

“You should just drink more milk.”

“Okay, not all of us are perverts and obsessed with milk--”

“How the hell does liking milk make me a pervert, dumbass?! Why are you always calling me a pervert?!”

“Milk is kind of gross, Kageyama. I’m not gonna drink it.”

“Then enjoy being a shortie forever.”

“Fine! Enjoy being a jerk forever!”

“Atleast I’ll be a tall jerk.”

Hinata scoffs, then gives a dark chuckle. “Just watch, in five years, I’m going to be even taller than you.”

At that, Kageyama laughs, hard. “Okay,” he says condescendingly, “sure. I think your brain fell asleep without you knowing.”

“Shut up, stupid! You’re so rude! I hate you!”

“You’re the stupid one, stupid! And I hate you!”

“Yeah, well, I hate you more.”

“....”

“Kageyama?”

“....”

“... Kageyama?! Did you hang up on me?! If you hung up on me, I swear to god, I’m gonna bike to your house right now, and--”

“And what? Can you even reach my door handle?”

“... I swear, I’m never speaking to you ever again.”

It’s 3:45 am and Kageyama doesn’t want to sleep for fear of losing this feeling when he wakes. 

\---

They’re sitting side by side on the bench, elbows brushing and knees knocking together with every move they make to wipe the sweat from their hairlines and take long, desperate swigs of water. 

They watch in silence from the sidelines as their team works in sync without them. It’s hard sometimes, Kageyama thinks, to accept when they’re just not working well a certain day, to sit out and feel his heartbeat quicken in his chest not from exertion or excitement, but from longing. He knows it’s just as hard for Hinata, with the way his face twists in determination and his body becomes tight and anxious. They sit for long minutes on the bench, the stuffy gym air making Kageyama feel clammy and useless. 

Kageyama watches, interestedly, as Hinata reaches into his jacket pocket and takes out his phone. It’s against the rules to have electronics out during practice, Kageyama wants to remind him, but he opts to watch Sugawara’s form as he starts the second set instead. Hinata is texting furiously, probably Kenma or some of his class friends, and when he stops, he takes a few deep breaths, leans forward so his head falls between his knees. Kageyama flexes his hands, stretches his arms over his head, tries not to wonder but he does.

When practice is over and they’re finishing getting dressed, Kageyama notices his cell phone flashing in his bag and checks it. When he sees four text messages, all from Hinata, his breathing quickens without him knowing why and he forgoes changing out of his sweaty clothes for reading them. 

_sorry i sucked today,_ the first one reads, and Kageyama almost snorts but he’s too confused because Hinata actually didn’t suck, it was out of his control, they just weren’t working well enough today as a team. 

_i know we spent so much time practicing last weekend, and i still couldn’t be better…_

Kageyama sighs, thinks about how excited Hinata had been during their weekend training, and then his slumped over form when they sat on the bench. He’s just about to hurriedly finishing getting dressed so he can yell at Hinata for being so dumb, for getting so discouraged when that is not what they do, but he keeps scrolling down to read the other two texts. 

_but just you wait stupid kageyama i am going 2 be so good tomorrow i swear!!! you are gonna be amazed! we are gonna WIN interhigh and show everyone who we are!! and it’s gonna be bcuz we are the best!_

Then, 

_< 3_

__

Kageyama grins to himself, then forces it away in case anyone sees him dumbly smiling at his phone, and finishes getting dressed. He rushes out to meet Hinata by the bike rack, feels his heart clench at the sheepish look on the red-heads’ face. Kageyama swallows hard. 

“Hey,” he greets, face neutral and voice flat. “Let’s go to Coach’s shop. I’ll buy us meat buns.”

Hinata’s eyes widen for a second, and then it looks like he’s trying not to smile too hard, nodding his head happily and babbling on about how wow, Kageyama can be nice after all, which of course leads to them bickering and fighting the whole walk there.

(Kageyama reads Hinata’s last text over and over, tries not to overthink it, but the characters keep appearing in his mind, large and unbidden, and it’s hard to ignore the way it makes him feel safe and understood and suddenly so much less alone.) 

ø

It’s the small things, the immeasurably frivolous happenings that strike a chord and suddenly, oh, things change, and wow, Kageyama did not expect this to be so difficult. 

Hinata is grounded (“because you’re a dumbass,” Kageyama reminds him, earning a smack to the arm and an earful of shrilly, defensive remarks) and as a result he’s lost Playstation, cell phone, and computer privileges for two weeks. Granted, he did fail an exam worth nearly 20 percent of his grade, but even still, it’s a bit harsh. 

“Wow, Hinata-kun really got it handed to him from his mother, huh?” Kageyama’s mom says, buttering her toast over the breakfast table.

“It’s because he never learns. Last time he failed an exam, she took away his video games. Now, it’s that plus everything else.” Kageyama carefully avoids eye contact with his mother, puts on his best casual face, keeps his voice even and neutral, because yeah, maybe he’s upset. Maybe he’s actually upset that Hinata was dumb enough to fail a test that badly and as a result, they haven’t talked for two days except for practice. It’s weird, and Kageyama feels oddly as if he’s been dumped. Hinata’s been busy at lunch the past two days with errands for his class, and then said part of his punishment is going straight home after practice and not hanging out. 

Kageyama is maybe a little upset. His fingers twitch, check his phone every five seconds as if there will be a message. He’s a creature of habit, and he’d gotten used to Hinata never being farther than the peripheries of his reach, always grazing his fingertips, dancing energy, invariably, at the other end of the line at 2 AM when every ache in his body was telling him to sleep but he couldn’t when Hinata was whispering into his ear about traveling to other countries, someday, and college and victory (and how it would be the two of them, every step of the way). 

“Hinata-kun’s mother is probably just upset right now. She’ll probably lessen his punishment after a few days,” his mother comments lightly, and Kageyama can tell she’s trying not to comfort him, trying to sound offhand and not as if she’s telling him exactly what he wants to hear.

Kageyama is maybe a little lonely.

‘’’’’

Despite never calling it what it is, Kageyama and Hinata have a meeting place they arrive at before school starts every morning. 

They don’t talk much in the mornings, when Hinata is still rubbing the sleep from his eyes and yawning wide, shameless, and Kageyama is blinking every two second so he doesn’t fall asleep on his feet or walk into walls.

They usually knock shoulders as the early sky lights up, or overcasts their bundled up bodies, the cool morning air weaving through their bodies. 

Today, though, is different.

Hinata doesn’t show up, not five minutes after the time they usually meet, not ten minutes, not twenty minutes (and Kageyama is going to be late to class, almost certainly, but it’s that dumbasses fault and his teacher should understand that.) 

He doesn’t show up at their lunch spot either, and it’s weird, because Kageyama has never realized how much they began to rely on their cellphones to keep track of each other. And maybe it’s weird, to keep track of your friends, but they have a routine, as embarrassing as that is to admit, and Kageyama doesn’t think it’s overwhelmingly weird for him to worry when it is suddenly completely, one-sidedly upended. 

He sees Hinata (finally) at practice that afternoon and there’s a moment where he feels so much relief that he forgets to be upset or ask any questions. He simply nods at his friend, tries not to appear taken aback, or nervous, or longing. 

“Kageyama!” Hinata says, and he smiles, but it’s odd, it’s wobbly and uncomfortable. Kageyama pretends he doesn’t notice.

“We have a lot to work on today,” he mumbles, and Hinata rolls his eyes and they practice until Kageyama can’t think enough about what today means.

-

It’s when Kageyama is suffering through his final class of the day, Calculus, and drawing mindlessly in the margins of his notes and then stops and realizes he’s spent the last twenty minutes drawing a curly mess of hair, a smile wide enough to split his face, a slim neck and sharp protruding collarbones, without knowing, that he realizes what’s really going on. 

It’s little things, like the way he glances at his cell phone every five seconds hoping to see his screen lit up with Hinata’s name, the way he’s suddenly panicked and searching for an outlet every time his phone alerts him of its low battery. It’s the way he looks at the wallpaper on his phone and feels his heartbeat pick up in rhythm with the nervous tapping of his foot like a snare drum. It’s the way he needs to feel in contact with Hinata at every given moment of the day in order to feel real, to fight the solitude of being the way he is-- thorny, inexperienced, unsociable, but not mean, not cruel, not really, just a little unsure. 

It’s the way not seeing Hinata for only a few days has made Kageyama feel as if all the cold, creeping loneliness is just a threat on the horizon and not a thing of the past. It’s the way he yearns for Hinata’s stupid, mindless texts about the gum he found on the underside of his desk, or the dream he had about aliens, or the selfies he takes with animals, or his arm pressed against his own. 

It’s the little things, that build up, and then burst until Kageyama’s entire body is bathed in hot, blotchy embarrassment, until he feels like his every nerve ending is firing off into tiny fireworks just beneath his skin and his mind is racing, sprinting forward and away from his body. 

He leaves class in a scurry, doesn’t have time to think about the way he’s rushing out the door to see him. 

\\\/

“Yachi’s tutoring me today! Go ahead without me, I might meet up if we finish early,” Hinata says hurriedly, throwing his belongings into his bag and then rushing out of his classroom, barely even looking at Kageyama as he does.

Kageyama shifts from foot to foot for a few seconds in his wake, ignores Hinata’s classmates eyeing him oddly, because he never picks Hinata up for lunch, they probably didn’t even know they were friends. 

Kageyama grits his teeth, goes back to his classroom and eats both of the meat buns he bought, alone. 

-

Kageyama is a creature of habit, and a creature of honesty, and of insecurity, but also of impatience.

“Why are you ignoring me,” he all but demands, charging at Hinata before he could go into the club room to change for practice. Campus is quiet, deserted except for club activities, but most of the team isn’t here yet anyway. They both always get to practice absurdly early, so Kageyama knows he has no excuse to be in a hurry and brush him off.

Hinata blinks up at him in surprise, then swallows, crosses his arms. It’s kind of windy out, and Kageyama watches the way Hinata’s nest of hair flutters and falls, twice, as he searches for words. “What do you mean,” he settles on, eyes shifty, but his voice is shakey, which means he knows exactly what Kageyama means. 

“These past few days you have done everything humanly possible to ignore me,” Kageyama tries not to sound hurt, but he is, and he can tell from how Hinata looks at him in astonishment that it shows, “and I want to know why. Just because you got grounded doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to talk to me. What’s going on?”

Hinata wrings his hands, the muscles in his triceps flexing in anxiety. He pushes the curly mess of hair from his eyes and groans. “ I… don’t know,” he whines, staring at the ground. “I just thought… ugh. This is so embarrassing, Kageyama. Can’t you just let it go? I won’t ignore you anymore.”

“Why did you ignore me at all?”

Hinata bites his lip, and his face crumples. His ears are pink, Kageyama notes. “It’s just! The reason I got grounded was because of you!”

Kageyama frowns, too surprised by this accusation to be upset by it. “How is it my fault you’re a dumbass?”

“It’s not, stupid! I just…” Hinata looks up at him through his eyelashes, and although he’s done it a thousand times before (he’s short) Kageyama feels his chest clench, something not entirely unfamiliar but somehow exaggeratedly momentous in this instant. He’s careful not to react. “... I just… I studied for that test, Kageyama. Or, I tried to. Really! I went to Yachi’s and studied with her and then I studied on my own but, well.” He puts his face in his hands. “I couldn’t focus at all when I was studying, or during the test, even. All I could think about was you.”

Kageyama blinks a few times, but it still doesn’t make sense. “Me?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh,” he thinks he says, but there’s blood rushing in his ears, and he knows his entire face is red and doing a shitty job of containing his embarrassment. “Uh, so. Why?”

Hinata rolls his eyes, but he finally makes eye contact. “Because I’m always thinking about you! We text all day and then we hang out at lunch every day and then we’re at practice together every day and then we talk on the phone every night! I just. My head is always thinking Kageyama, Kageyama, Kageyama! And when you’re not there, I just… I don’t know, I think stupid things, like I imagine us talking or, uh,” his face is blotchy pink and he’s starting to sweat, Kageyama thinks, somehow, through the fog of disbelief he’s been enveloped in, “sometimes I just imagine, like, holding your hand! I don’t know!”

Hinata is nearly screeching, Kageyama notices, and they really should take this conversation elsewhere, their entire team should be arriving soon, but Hinata is still talking. 

“So after I got grounded I told myself to ignore you… for a little bit, at least,” he finishes, calmer, but eyes trained strictly to his feet. “‘Cause maybe if you weren’t around, I’d stop failing my tests. And, uh, I wouldn’t be thinking about that kinda stuff.”

“Like, uh, holding my hand?” Kageyama asks to clarify, and Hinata yells, clamping his hands over his ears. 

“Stop! It’s so embarrassing! Don’t ever repeat that ever again!”

“Okay, jeez, calm down,” Kageyama hushes him, grabs his shoulder to move him further from the door to the club room, in case their teammates start to show up for practice early. He only means to guide him away, but once he’s holding onto Hinata he realizes how much of an electric burn it leaves in his fingertips and he suddenly can’t let go. 

Hinata freezes at the touch, then speeds into motion, flinching out of his grip and moving until his back is against the wall. Kageyama stares, wonders, aches, and then bursts.

“I think about your collarbones in Calculus,” he says, and then waits for death to be swift.

Hinata blinks at him, cocks his head in that stupid (cute) way he always does, and Kageyama doesn’t give him an actual chance to respond before he’s sputtering again, eyes trained to the ground, “I-I just understand what you mean. I think, uh, I think about you too. All the time-- not! Not all the time! Just… a lot.”

It’s silent for a few seconds until Hinata clears his throat, and when Kageyama looks up at him, he’s pink faced, biting his lip and swaying a bit on his feet. “I thought maybe you would get tired of me,” he says quietly, and Kageyama has no idea how that would ever even happen. 

“We’ve just been talking and hanging out so much lately,” Hinata continues, voice high and anxious, hands coming up to his face, as if that’ll stop the spread of his full body blush. “I was worried maybe… maybe you didn’t like it. As much as I did. So when I got grounded, I kinda, well.” Hinata shrugs, looks up at him, and Kageyama knows he’s not imagining the way Hinata is leaning forward, away from where he’d been flush against the wall. “I thought it would give us space, because that’s what you wanted. I didn’t think you would care.” 

Kageyama is somehow more saddened by that than angry, almost, at least, enough so that he can’t help what he says next. 

“I missed you a little bit,” he says, then reddens and the air tightens in his throat, stares at a point just to the left of Hinata’s head. He feels Hinata shift in front of him, probably trying to peer into his face. “I missed you a lot,” he admits quietly.

Hinata’s eyes are wide and shiny, and he’s biting down a smile, inching forward so he’s in Kageyama’s space. “You missed me?” he repeats, and Kageyama would be irritated with him for making him have to repeat such a thing, but Hinata’s voice is soft and sweet and hopeful in a way that makes Kageyama realize he’s so gone, swept away in the tide of Hinata’s smile.

“Did you miss the part where I think about your collarbones in Calculus?” he mumbles, and Hinata laughs so bright and delighted Kageyama can’t help the way his heart perks and soars at the sound. 

“I like you Kageyama,” Hinata says suddenly, voice wavery but happy. Kageyama finally looks at him, meets his eyes, and swears he could count every fleck of gold in his eyes.

“I like you, too,” he admits, rubs the back of his scarlet neck, and tries not to jump out of his skin, out of this universe, when Hinata rushes forward to embrace him, his face pressed tightly into the crook of Kageyama’s shoulder. Kageyama brings his hands, hesitantly, up to hold the smaller boy close as well, wonderous at the way every vein in his body is lit up, filled to the brim with fondness and awe. 

They’re both late to practice. 

\\\\\

They walk home together after practice, hand in hand, and Hinata grins at him with rosy cheeks and, despite how tender and fragile and dewy this is, Kageyama doesn’t hesitate to lift their joined palms to his mouth and brush his lips against the hand he trusts most, trace the freckles with his mouth until Hinata is giggling too hard and pulls Kageyama close enough to him to wrap his arms around his neck and hold tight, warm and familiar. 

It’s early evening, and the sky has never been so bright.

**Author's Note:**

> this is the most self indulgent thing i have ever written in my entire life i am so d o n e with myself
> 
> anyway, last week was hell warmed up so i wrote some fluff because i wanted sweet boys being sweet and dumb and in love 
> 
> thanks for reading luvs!!!


End file.
